


Love Letters

by webcricket



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Love Letters, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 20:41:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18126233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcricket/pseuds/webcricket
Summary: A sweetly themed snippet of coda for SPN 14X15 Peace of Mind (semi-spoilery I supposed if you haven’t seen the episode) - this is a peek at what Castiel thinks as he skims through those steamy love letters he found.





	Love Letters

Sheets of stationary poised in his fingertips, fading scent of rosewater caressing his nose and transporting him deep into the realm of introspection, Castiel forgets for a moment why he’s here in this neatly efficient boarding house sat on the edge of the bed.

Bright mauve stamp of a lipsticked kiss sealing sentiment therein, delicate script of passion perfectly punctuated across the perfumed paper, something exciting _,_ sweet, and _alive_ dwells in Sunny’s love letters to her Conrad. Something _else_ simmers there, too, for the seraph studying the billet-doux found secreted beneath the mattress - a something unsaid that makes his skin singe from the inside out with heat, a something that parches his throat to desert thirst and trembles his fingers with subdued desire. 

In each wave of words and escalating emotion undulating off the page, thoughts of you shimmer mirage-like in the fire ablaze in his mind as he savors every erotically penned syllable. Tongue wetting pink lips, he recollects your taste pressed to his mouth, your blissfully honeyed breath filling, flooding, and overflowing to penetrate his angelic heart in awe; he feels your hands plying his vessel with pleasure and he yours, your figure pliant and responsive to his tender and reverentially thorough touches; he experiences in eidetic detail that symphonic surge of God-given grace, swelling desperate limbed dance of devotion, melodic moans, and softly gasped sighs of a lovemaking resonating to its ecstatic apogee. He swallows thickly at the cascading thoughts, hollowed and unsated by imagery alone, hungered in your absence.

He fumbles the colorful stack of paper upon Sam’s return. Glancing up at the hunter, perceiving the perplexed knot coiling at the center his friend’s brow, he sees once again the sterile decor of the surrounding room and remembers the case. Stubble masking the flush of the seraph’s cheeks, he offers a steamy - and awkwardly selected - summary of his sensual discovery to Sam’s chagrin.

When Sam withdraws, Castiel peers down a final time at the letters; tracing the pad of his thumb over Sunny’s sweet nothings, he stops at the valediction on the topmost page of the stack - a simply signed: _‘Your Sun.’_ He believes, perhaps, this is the sweetest notation of all - for he, too, happily knows what it is like to orbit one such a shining star and bask in its glorious light; and despite Conrad’s untimely demise, the angel thinks him a very lucky man indeed.


End file.
